Rumors and Promises (30 page)

Sophie would make the best of it. As much as her heart ached to be closer to Reverend Ian McCormick, friendship would have to be enough, especially with the eyes of Mrs. Wringer on them both. He would be better left to the shy, unassuming girl, Nora, anyway.

Sophie and Maggie strolled along the boardwalk. “It was good to hear from Mrs. Fairgrave. I’m writing back, telling her everything is fine and not to rush home.” Sophie held an envelope, ready to mail, in one hand.

“The board approved the fix-up day not a moment too soon.” Maggie sighed.

“I only hope she won’t suspect anything since I’m hinting that she take her time.”

“Just a few more things to get.” Maggie held a list for the upcoming workday at the boardinghouse as they strode toward the mercantile.

Main Street bustled with traffic. Horses clomped without care along the muddy road and women lifted the edges of their skirts with daintiness as they crossed the street. More than once, a wagon wheel made a revolution through a puddle and splashed pedestrians with dirty water.

“Disgusting!” Maggie took a handkerchief from her reticule and wiped a muddy spot from her skirt.

The sky hung overhead with a sickly gray pallor, and Sophie held her hat onto her head when the wind lifted it.

The letter slipped from her other hand, and she bent to retrieve it. As she looked up, she noticed a young man swaggering along, farther up the street. He wore a fancy dark suit and a hat to match. He had the same build as Charles, the same confident strut. How many women would he deceive with his insincere charm in this town, given a chance? Sophie gasped.

Her mouth grew dry, and she fell to her knees, unable to move. Her heart hammered inside her chest so that it was the only thing she heard. When he turned around and strode toward them, Sophie muted the scream she felt rising in her throat and attempted an escape. The letter again fell to the boardwalk and she covered her mouth and the squeak that sounded from it.

The slick hair that peeked out from under his hat and the trimmed mustache were so much like Charles’, but she could see that his coloring was different as he walked closer.

“What is it?” Maggie bent toward her and offered a hand. “Are you all right?”

“Good afternoon, ladies.” The gentleman, probably several years older than her child’s father, tipped his hat. “May I help you?” He bent to retrieve the envelope for her.

Sophie realized her unabated stare must appear very rude to him and Maggie. She inhaled. How long had it been since she’d taken a breath? “Th-thank you,” she stammered.

She took the offered white envelope and observed his questioning gaze. “I’m sorry, you just remind me of someone … someone I haven’t seen for a long time.”

“That’s all right.” The stranger nodded and gave her a kind smile, one filled with sincerity—so unlike Charles. He tipped his hat before he went on to pass them.

Maggie took her arm. “What was that all about?”

“It’s nothing, Maggie, really. It’s all in the past.”

Maggie clucked her tongue. “I can see you don’t want to talk about it.” There was hurt in the tone of her voice.

Sophie patted the hand that grasped her arm. “Some things aren’t worth talking about. They’re better left unsaid.” She forced a smile toward her dear friend. She would not, in fact, she could not, burden Maggie with her secrets. Besides, as lovely and kind as she was, Ian’s sister was decent folk, and Sophie reminded herself that she would not be considered decent anymore, if the truth were known.

“Sophie, dear, sometimes I positively wonder about you.”

She stiffened and took in another deep breath. “How so?”

“You’ve never told us where you were from or what happened to your loved ones.”

“It’s still too painful to talk about.” Now that was the plain truth. Rejection’s sting didn’t seem to lessen much over time. Sophie held her head high and turned away so that Maggie couldn’t see the tears clouding her eyes.

CHAPTER 18

T
he following Friday, the yeasty scent of baking bread and the warmth of Esther’s stove surrounded Sophie with the comfort of a mother’s hug. Caira sat on the floor, banging a wooden spoon on a dented pan and chattering to her rag doll, which was propped against the cupboard door. Sophie’s return to the boardinghouse had been a relief. Being at the parsonage day and night, when she was sick, had pushed her into a melancholy state. Ian’s nearness interfered with her attempt to bring an end to her growing feelings for him.

Sophie stirred the golden batter with vigor, wanting her yellow cake to be light and fluffy for the coming church workday at the boardinghouse. Maggie hummed as she dusted in the other room. A knock sounded at the back door.

Sophie pushed aside the curtain to find Nora standing on the stoop. She squinted in the bright sunlight. Pulling open the door, Sophie greeted her friend. “Nora! What brings you here? Come in.”

The girl stepped over the threshold. She wore a muted green plaid suit and held an apron over one arm while she carried a basket in the same hand. “I’ve brought quince jelly, compliments of Aunt Gertie. And I’ve come to help.”

“Truly?”

“Well, Aunt Gertie won’t be here for the work bee, neither will she allow me.” Nora paused. “It’s her contribution. She doesn’t want to seem completely against Esther, especially as head of the Ladies’ Aid Society.” Nora set the basket on the kitchen table. “But she didn’t say I couldn’t help you get ready.”

Sophie shivered when she took hold of the jars—as cold as the woman who’d produced their contents—and placed them on the sideboard.

“Won’t they be upset if they find out you stayed very long?” Confusion clouded Sophie’s thoughts. As much as she disliked Mrs. Wringer, she didn’t want to encourage Nora to act disrespectfully or dishonestly to her aunt and uncle. However, as lonely as the other young woman seemed for friendship, Sophie couldn’t bear to send her away.

Nora squeezed Sophie’s flour-covered hand. “Aunt Gertie and Uncle Edmund will be gone all day.” She paused, looking a bit guilty. “I’ll only stay for a couple of hours, but you and Mrs. Galloway have shown kindness to me. I truly desire to repay you both. Besides, how can Aunt Gertie fault me for ingratiating myself with the reverend’s sister?” The sincerity of the look in her blue eyes brightened with a bit of mischief. “After all, my usual chores are done, and I’ll have plenty of time to practice on Aunt Gertie’s piano later. I’ll tell her that I felt the Ladies’ Aid Society needed to be represented in some small way at least.”

“What would you like to help with?” Sophie asked her while she wiped her hands on a clean cotton towel.

“I was hoping you needed help with baking. I figured you’ll need to feed the workers this weekend. I keep some of my mother’s best cookie recipes right up here.” Nora patted her head.

“What’s this I hear about cookies?” Maggie had opened the kitchen door and peeked in.

“You might have some competition with Maggie’s snicker doodles.” Sophie had Nora giggling, along with herself.

Maggie came all the way into the kitchen. Her hands went up as if in defeat. “I’m sure the town has had enough of my old snicker doodles.”

“Never!” Sophie put an arm around her, thinking of all the times the spicy scent of cookies in the parsonage oven had made her feel at home. “But Nora would like to help us bake this morning.”

“Really? Well, we’re glad to have you.” Maggie hugged Nora, whose eyes widened at the gesture of affection. The young widow stepped back and reached for her apron. “We better set to helping Sophie. There’s a lot to do.”

Though baking was one of Sophie’s favorite chores, having help made things go much more quickly. In fact, cooking took little effort with her friends.

She stopped, dipping a ladle into the stewed chicken she’d put together for the midday meal and then tasted a seasoned carrot and bit of potato. The men would traipse through the door and search for something edible soon enough.

“Before I go, I wanted to ask your opinion on some music I’m working on for Sunday.” Nora swept a washcloth across the table while Maggie swished a broom over the floor.

“Oh?” The bite of vegetables stuck in the back of her throat as she attempted to swallow. She tried not to think of the friendship that must be developing between Nora and Ian. He’d taken her for her individual value, rather than show prejudice against Nora, despite her aunt’s machinations. Though it was for the best, sadness intruded on her musings, along with reality.

“I hope I can play the piano as well as you some day. Then maybe I could teach eventually.” Nora squeezed the washcloth
over the sink basin, looking like she was a hundred miles away in her thoughts.

“Nora, you’re doing very well. As I’ve said before, I had a lot of practice when I was younger. It will come with time.” Sophie reached for bowls and placed them on the sideboard. “By the time my sewing business is in full swing, you’ll be ready to teach and can have my students.”

“I’m so thankful for the extra bit of money for my family.” She neatly folded the rag and draped it over the edge of the basin. “But you know, Sophie, I’m sure you need it more than I do. Would you consider sharing the position with me if the elder board goes along?” She untied her apron and pulled it up over her head. “I should shake this out.”

Sophie opened her eyes wider. “Wouldn’t your aunt make a fuss? And what about your family?”

“I’ll tell her I want more time to work on my painting and drawing, which is partly true. She takes stock in having such genteel abilities. And I can make up the difference for my family with part of my allowance. Please think about my offer.” Her friend looked over her shoulder bearing a smile and mischief in her eyes. As Nora opened the door with her apron in her hand, James Cooper barreled through.